Almost Paradise
by Bellicose
Summary: Two-shot Sawyer/OC. This wasn't exactly the vacation that they had in mind.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters that you recognize. Anything Lost-related belongs to ABC and the brilliant writers. I own what you do not recognize, mainly Evie. I'm not making any money off of this, so don't sue me. Okay? Great.

Rating: T for language, thanks to Sawyer.

Author's Note: Hello all! This is the first story that I have written by myself and had enough courage to post, so thank you for taking the time to read it. This is a Saywer/OC two-shot. It's really a one-shot, but it was getting a bit long to be in a chapter by itself. I was planning on writing a whole story about the pair, but other things are inspiring me more at the moment, so I finished this part of the story and decided to post it. It's really just an introduction to the OC, her relationship with Sawyer, and a bit about how they met. Maybe someday I will get motivated enough to continue it, like when the new season starts, but for now, it's finished. Reviews are great, constructive criticism and tips on writing are welcome and appreciated. I tried to keep Sawyer as in character as I could, but I feel that he slipped a bit in places, so sorry if anyone really picks up on that.

xxxxx

**Chapter 1**

A large explosion startled her awake and she sat up quickly, sucking in a deep breath and immediately regretting it as smoke filled her lungs, causing her to cough violently. Her body shook as she tried to expel the bad air out of her in order to breathe normally once again. As the coughing subsided, she looked around, pushing her light brown hair from her face and taking in her surroundings, trying to figure out why exactly she was laying in the hot sand on a beach. That was when she saw the wreckage of the plane, the cause of the smoke infested air, and the people scattered across the area in much the same condition as her. There was mass chaos everywhere she looked. A blonde girl in her early twenties was screaming for someone and a man in a suit was frantically pulling at a piece of metal that was trapping a second man to the ground. She could feel the heat from both the bright sun and the burning wreckage, only adding to her miserable condition.

Groaning, she slowly got to her feet, hand clutching her sore left side. She looked around her, searching for a certain head of long dirty blonde hair. "Sawyer?" she croaked, her throat dry from the smoke. "Sawyer?" she said a bit louder as turned in circles, looking. "Sawyer!"

It was then that she saw a young boy struggling to get a piece of metal off of his legs. She made her way over to him as fast as she could, avoiding the thick clouds of smoke and frantic people. "Hey, whoa, calm down. I got it." She grabbed the jagged piece of airplane wreckage and pulled it to the side with some effort. "You okay?" she asked, offering her hand to the boy as he got up carefully, testing to make sure his legs were stable enough to hold him.

"Yeah, I'm good," he replied, wiping the sand off of his shorts. "I'm guessing our plane crashed?" He squinted his eyes against the bright sun as he looked around at the scene.

"I would say you guessed right." She scratched the back of her neck. "What's your name?"

"I'm Walt. Who are you?"

"Evie." She gave him a small smile. "Were you on the plane by yourself?"

He shook his head and replied, "No, I was with my dad. He came to Australia to pick me up."

She let out a breath and nodded slowly, glad that at least the boy wasn't alone. "Well then, I think we-"

They both hit the ground as another explosion rippled across the beach, sending more smoke into the air. What looked to be pieces of a propeller fell from the sky as Evelyn let out loud coughs, the dirty air once again infiltrating her lungs. She groaned and stood up, grabbing Walt's arm to help him to his feet. "You okay?" He nodded, once again wiping the sand from his shorts. "We should go find your dad before we get blown up or something."

Looking around hesitantly at the mess, they slowly started walking towards the largest piece of plane wreckage, where the majority of the people had conjugated. A yell close by startled them and they saw an older gentleman writhing on the ground, a large piece of shrapnel jutting out from his side. "Oh shit!" Evelyn then turned to Walt. "Bad word, don't say it." She ran over to the man, not knowing what to do since she had no experience with this kind of thing. "Sir, can you hear me?" She grabbed his hand and tried to keep him from moving. "Sir, you need to be still. You're only going to make it worse if you don't relax."

She felt Walt kneel down next to her. "Should we pull it out?" he asked somewhat excitedly.

She shook her head and replied, "If we do, he'll bleed to death. We need to keep him still until we can get off this beach." He was about to argue with her when they heard someone yelling. They looked up just in time to see the man in the suit and a large guy pull a pregnant lady out from under a falling plane wing. The piece of metal hit the ground, causing nearby debris to blow up and scatter shards across the beach. Evelyn covered Walt and the injured man as much as she could as the rubble landed around them. "Shit! I'm getting really tired of things blowing up," she said angrily, kicking a piece of flaming debris away from the now quiet man laying in front of her. She sighed and searched the beach again, spotting the man in the suit talking professionally to the woman. "Hey Walt, I need you to go get that man over there, in the black jacket and tie. He looks like he knows what he's doing, maybe he can help this guy." The boy nodded and ran off to complete his mission. Evelyn took off her coat and bundled it up, placing it under the older man's head. "Sir, what's your name?"

His head lulled to one side and he croaked out, "She's dangerous," before his eyes closed and his breathing slowed. Panicking, she checked for a pulse and was relieved when she finally found a weak one. The doctor picked that moment to come rushing to the other side of the man.

"Do you know him? What's his name?" he asked quickly, already checking the wound.

"We just found him over here," she answered, sliding back slightly to give the doctor space. She grabbed Walt's hand as he came to her side. "He never told me his name. He mumbled something, but I think he's delusional. It didn't make much sense to me." He nodded and they sat in silence for a few seconds while he tried to assess the situation.

"I'm Jack, what's your name?" He glanced up at her quickly, then back down to his patient.

"I'm Evie, this is Walt."

"Evie, I need you to help me move him away from these fumes. Can you do that?" He stopped and looked at her, waiting for an answer. She nodded tentatively and he gave her a small smile. "Good. Now, we need to be very careful of his wound. If we move the metal, he'll start bleeding. Do you understand?" She nodded again and stood, trying to figure out the best way to pick him up. With a bit of a struggle, they eventually got him settled further up the beach, away from most of the crowd and smoke.

"Do you need me to do anything else?" she asked quietly.

Jack shook his head, trying to make the man as comfortable as possible. "We can't do much until we get him to a hospital. I'll keep an eye on him. Thanks for your help."

She shrugged and replied, "I didn't actually do anything, but you're welcome none the less. We're gonna go try and find his father. Let me know if you need something, yeah?" He gave her a smile and nodded, then went back to examining his patient's wound. "C'mon Walt, let's go see who we can find." She gently pushed the boy back down the beach towards the other survivors, hoping the kid's dad was among them.

"We need to find Vincent too," he told her as they searched the now much more calm crowd.

She looked down at him, a puzzled look on her face. "Is he your brother or something?"

"No, he's my dog." Evelyn let out a sigh of relief. "He was on the plane with me. We were taking him back to my dad's house because there wasn't anyone to take care of him in Australia."

She nodded and turned her eyes back to the people on the beach, looking for both a dark skinned man and the blonde who was still missing. "Well, we can look for him after we find-"

"Walt!" The pair turned towards the trees to see a man running towards them. The concern etched across his face told Evelyn that it was definitely the man they were looking for.

"Dad!" Walt ran to meet him and, after giving him a hug, the man gave him a once over, making sure he was unharmed. After asking him several times if he was okay, he turned to the woman awkwardly standing a few feet away.

"I appreciate you lookin' out for my boy," he told her, sticking his hand out in front of him. "I'm Michael."

She smiled and accepted his hand. "Evie. And it wasn't a problem. He's a really nice kid." She sent a wink to the boy, who grinned in return.

"Can we go look for Vincent now?" he asked excitedly.

Michael looked down at his son. "We'll look later, okay?"

Walt turned to Evelyn, a frown on his face. "But you said we would find him once we found my dad."

Evelyn nodded and replied, "I promise I'll help you look for him, but right now I need to go find somebody. As soon as I find him, we'll go look, okay?" The boy sighed but nodded in agreement. "I'll see you guys later," she said as she turned away. "It was nice meeting you Michael," she threw over her shoulder. She headed further up the beach, hoping to spot the familiar face she was searching for. After a few minutes, she finally saw the head of dirty blonde hair that she was looking for, an un-lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, eyes roaming the beach. She smiled and happy tears filled her eyes. She quickened her pace, but stopped when his gaze met hers. Her smile grew wider as he stood up and she ran to him as fast as her legs would carry her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she inhaled his spicy cologne and allowed it to fill her senses, relishing in the familiarity that he provided.

"Where have you been? You okay?" he asked as they separated from each other.

"I'm fine. I was on the other end of the beach. Found some kid and an injured guy. He was a mess. There's a doctor though, and he's taking care of the guy and we found the kid's dad. So I finally got a chance to come find you."

He laughed and sat back down, pulling her with him. "Well I'm glad you made time to come see me, sweetheart," he said sarcastically, causing her to roll her eyes and hit his arm. "Ow, that hurt." It was her turn to laugh and she leaned into him, enjoying his company once again.

xxxxx

_It was incredibly sunny to be so early in the morning and the birds were already singing happily in the nearby trees. Evelyn was also in a good mood, a cup of coffee in hand as she walked down the wooden dock lined with boats of all sizes. She waved and smiled to the men who were getting a quick start on their daily activities, polishing their ships to a sparkling perfection and stocking the coolers full of beer. Her smile grew brighter as her destination came into view. Near the end of the pier sat a small vessel covered in a pearly white paint and accented with chrome lining. It wasn't the nicest boat in the area, but it was big enough to hold a cabin for a few people and could travel a relatively long distance at one time. She took a sip of her drink as she stepped onto the boat, heading in the direction of the table situated just under the canopy covering the steering console. Her coffee safely on the table, she took of her jacket and placed it next to the cup, turning around and letting out a small gasp as her eyes fell on the cushioned benches located at the back of the boat. The faint sound of snoring filtered into her ears as she looked at the man who was currently sleeping, jacket resting haphazardly on top of him as a blanket. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, long dirty blonde hair blowing around in the wind, and stubble all over his face as if he hadn't shaved in a few days. Her eyes grew wide and she looked around frantically, trying to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do._

Holy shit, there's a serial killer in front of me. What do I do? I should run. No, that would require running past him, and we've all seen enough horror movies to know that that's when his foot would trip me and he'd get up and kill me. Shit.

_It was then she remembered the white case sitting off to the side and she quietly made her way to it, snapping it open and digging through old fishing equipment. Her eyes lit up as she eyed the harpoon gun at the bottom, for use only in emergencies if one were to get into a fight with a shark or something. She carefully reached in and pulled it out, wincing at every clang it made on the way up. She glanced back at the strange man, who was sleeping peacefully and completely unaware of the danger he was about to be in._

_After having accomplished her first task, she was faced with another: how to wake him up without him freaking out and killing her? She quickly racked her brain for ideas, then eyed her jacket laying innocently on the table. Picking it up, she balled it in her left hand and, inching closer, chucked it at his head, then jumped back and aimed the pointy end of the weapon at him, just in case this was indeed a mass murderer. The blonde man mumbled something and turned over a bit, never opening his eyes, but pushing the jacket off his face. The woman sighed and looked around, seeing nothing she could throw at him that wouldn't severely injure the man, not that severe injury was out of the question just yet. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her coffee cup and threw the liquid overboard. The sound of liquid hitting liquid seemed to stir him a bit, but his eyes never opened. "Hey!" she yelled, again pointing the gun at him. "Hey!" She accentuated her statement by throwing the cup at his face, which seemed to finally startle him awake. He blearily looked around, before he caught site of an average sized woman holding something dangerous that was pointing in his direction. He shot into a sitting position, his hands immediately going in the air as he looked at her with a wild expression._

_"What the hell are you doing? What is tha- is that a harpoon gun? Are you kidding me?" he asked angrily, trying to decide if she would actually shoot him._

_"Who are you?" she demanded, trying to sound confident. Of course she was scared, the guy killed people for a living._

_"Who am I? Who the hell are you? You're the crazy chick with the harpoon gun, that's who you are."_

_"That's right, I'm the one with the gun, so I get to ask the questions. Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my boat?" When he didn't answer right away, she took a step forward, aiming the weapon at his chest._

_"Hey, slow down cowgirl. Let's just talk this over. You really gonna shoot me?"_

_"I might, if you try and kill me. That would give me plenty of motivation to kill you."_

_"Kill you? Why in the hell would I do that, darlin'?" Any traces of fear completely left his face by this point, and he looked more amused than anything._

_"You're a killer. That's what killers do. They kill people."_

_"I'm a killer? Sweetheart, you're the one pointin' the gun at me. I think that makes you the killer." He smirked, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly._

_She huffed and lowered the gun, still keeping it in her hand just in case this was some kind of serial killer mind game. He didn't really look like an intelligent killer though. He looked more like a drunken redneck that hadn't bathed in a week, although that could be the smell of fish guts that would forever float around the marina. "Fine, if you're not a killer, then who are you?"_

_"I'm Tom," he said coolly, eyes watching her carefully._

_She raised her eyebrow at him, looking at him pointedly. "You're such a liar." She began to lift the gun back up when he started shouting, hands shooting up into the air._

_"Okay, okay. Put that damn thing down, woman. Name's Sawyer. Sawyer Ford." He sighed in frustration, hoping he wasn't going to get shot today. "Who are you?"_

_She held the gun up again. "We already had this discussion. I have the gun, I ask the questions. What are you doing on my boat?"_

_He rolled his eyes; this woman was crazy. "Put the damn gun away! You and I both know you're not goin' to shoot me. I got into a fight at the bar down the street. I was drunk and the cops were on the way, so I wandered down here. I was just gonna hang around a few minutes but-"_

_"-You passed out. On my boat. Brilliant." She sighed, letting the end of the harpoon rest against the deck of the boat. She looked down at her feet, her empty coffee cup resting on the wooden floor glaring up at her mockingly. "You owe me a cup of coffee by the way." He looked at her oddly, but before he could question her she backed up a few steps and began speaking again. "Well go on, get off my boat."_

_He looked as if he was going to say something, but shook his head and got up slowly, noticing that she still held the gun tightly in her hand. He carefully picked up his jacket and bowed his head to her, offering her a small smile before stepping on the dock. "Have a good day," he said, and with a wave he walked back to the road. She watched him, an odd look on her face as she tried to figure out what just happened. Turning back to the white case, she put the harpoon gun back into its rightful place and returned the fishing gear as well. She sat down on top of container and held her head in her hands._

_"Holy shit. I need another cup of coffee."_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything; it all belongs to ABC and such. The name of the boat belongs to whoever owns Star Trek. I own Evie, that's it. I'm making zero dollars for writing and publishing this little piece of fan fiction.

Rating: Still T, still thanks to Sawyer.

Author's note: This chapter takes place right after the last one left off in the present. Again, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it. Comments are fabulous. The story about Captain Santa Fe in this chapter is completely made up and complete crap, sorry that I'm not very good with pirate stories.

xxxxx

**Chapter 2**

The pair sat in silence, simply enjoying the feeling of safety after surviving such an event. Evelyn slowly glanced down the beach, taking in the pieces of the wrecked plane and the damage that had been done during the crash. Bodies lay scattered across the sand, most of them unmoving. Clothing and suitcases were mingled in with the people, and she wondered if her luggage had survived the crash. She saw the man with the shrapnel in the same position as she had left him near the trees, the doctor, Jack, nowhere in sight. The sun was starting to disappear into the aqua colored water; it would be dark soon. It was then that she noted an Arab man, well built and with long hair, walking out from the forest, a large pile of wood in his hands. She felt shifting behind her and turned her attention to the man pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket.

"We crash on an island and the only thing you manage to save is your smokes. That's great Sawyer, very resourceful of you." She rolled her eyes and turned back to the beach.

"Hey, how was I supposed to know that we'd get stuck on some beach? I don't see you with anything better." He gave her a smug look, tying to find his lighter. "Where'd that damn thing go?"

She turned around, annoyance gracing her face. "You put it in your checked luggage, remember?" He looked at her quizzically. "You can't have lighters on a plane, Sawyer. The guy at security made you check it. God, you are useless." She got up and began to head towards the ever-growing pile of wood.

"Where ya goin'?"

She turned around and sighed, squinting her eyes at the large orange globe that was steadily dropping out of site. "I'm going to see if I can help with something. We'll need to make camp until someone gets us off this rock. We need food, shelter, water, and a fire so that people can see us. Why don't you get off your ass and do something?"

He snorted and asked, "Why on earth would I do that? I'm suffering from post-traumatic stress. Or in case you hadn't noticed, we were just in a plane crash! I think I deserve a little time to myself."

She shook her head. "We were all on the same plane. So stop being so selfish and help." She began walking away, but turned around after a few feet. "The least you could do is go find our damn luggage. You find the luggage, you find your lighter, and then you can have your much needed smoke." She sighed again and turned back to her original task, leaving him to stare grumpily after her.

Evelyn arrived at the pile just as the Arab man returned again. He gave her a small smile as she approached. "Can I help you with something?" he asked politely.

She laughed softly and replied, "I actually came over here to ask you the same thing. Do you need help-" she glanced down "-making a huge pile of wood?"

He smiled widely at her and nodded, motioning for her to follow him into the trees. "I'm making a fire large enough for a rescue plane to see us. It's no use if they fly right over us." She nodded in understanding, picking up the first medium sized branch she could find. He followed suit a few yards away, breaking larger pieces into manageable sizes with his foot.

She took the time to study the man, watching him from the corner of her eye. He was quite a bit taller than her, probably around six feet. His hair fell around his face in curls and his arms were defined with muscles. His surprisingly gentle voice broke the silence. "I'm Sayid Jarrah. What is your name?"

She bent to pick up another piece of wood. "Evelyn Benedict. People just call me Evie though." She picked up a rather long piece and tried to break it like her had earlier. Her foot did little damage and she sneered at the wood in frustration before throwing it back onto the ground. She heard a small laugh coming in his direction, and sent a playful glare his way. When she could hold no more wood, she turned back towards the beach and began to walk slowly, waiting for Sayid to catch up with her. It didn't take him long, and they returned to the pile. After two more trips in and out, the pile size was to his liking and they began to rearrange it into a suitable campfire shape.

"So, how are we going to light the fire? I'm pretty sure there aren't any usable matches anywhere around here."

He grinned and jumped to his feet, wiping his hands on his cargo pants and jogging into the jungle. She shook her head as she watched him look for something, then turned her attention back to the people on the island. The pregnant girl was standing near the water, the ends of the waves running over her ankles. A guy was trying his cell phone as the screaming blonde girl from earlier pestered him. A bald man was sitting in the sand, staring at the ocean. She then spotted Sawyer, sitting right where he had been before, except his cigarette was lit and some of their luggage was sitting next to him. She smiled gently, glad that he at least done something. She sat down in the sand next to the soon to be fire, brushing the sand from her jeans. She shivered a bit as the wind began to pick up. It had gotten progressively cooler as the sun went down, and she'd be glad to have the fire going since she had no idea where her jacket had ended up. She saw that other people had decided to start fires as well, although theirs were nowhere near the size as the one in front of her. Sayid took that moment to return, some leafs in one hand and some small sticks in the other. He put the grass into a small pile and stuck the sticks end first onto it, then began twisting them back and forth.

Evelyn laughed, watching him focus intently on his task. "What, are you a boy scout or something?"

The fire sprang to life and the smile dropped from her face. Sayid looked up at her, amusement clearly displayed in his eyes. "Military, actually."

"You set fires for a living?"

He smiled. "I was a communications officer. But that was a long time ago."

She nodded and watched as the flames took over the majority of the pile, making a nice beacon of light for those who would be looking for them. Evelyn sat back enjoying the warmth that the fire provided. Sayid dragged over a piece of metal, using it as a seat.

A familiar looking blonde guy walked up, dressed in clothes right out of a rock magazine. "Mind if I join you guys?" he asked, his voice somewhat hoarse.

Sayid shook his head and moved to one side of his metal bench. "Have a seat."

"Great, thanks. I'm Charlie by the way." Introductions were made and Evelyn couldn't help but stare. Where had she seen him before? "I look familiar, don't I?" he asked, a smile on his face.

She looked at him, puzzled. "Yeah, you do. Have we met?"

He shook his head. "But I'm the bass player for the band-"

"Drive Shaft! Right, I've been to one of your shows. I was visiting someone in Liverpool and they took me to your concert. You guys were pretty good."

A wide grin spread across his face. "Ah, well thank you. I'm glad someone recognizes me. We're, ah, on a bit of a hiatus right now though. But I'm working on my solo album right now."

Both she and Sayid smiled. "Well, I'll make sure to buy it when it comes out. Wow, now I've met a famous person."

The conversation ended there when the large guy from earlier walked over, packages wrapped in silver held in his hands. "Here dudes." He handed each of them a pack. "Airplane food." He then took some silverware out of his packet and passed them around.

"Thank you," Sayid said politely, as the other two nodded and smiled. The big man smiled and continued on his journey to feed people.

Evelyn ripped open the bag and pulled out the contents, deciding that it didn't look too bad. She was about to dig into it when Sawyer wandered into her line of sight, spotting her and making his way cautiously over to her. He gingerly sat down next to her, glancing at the stuff in her hands. She took half of the sandwich and handed the other half to him. He smiled at her and took a bite, making a face when the stale bread and processed meat hit his taste buds. He looked at her and she shrugged, taking a bite of her sandwich as well. "We're on an island, now isn't the time to be picky."

Whatever smart remark he had planned was cut off by a loud howling sound coming from the jungle. It seemed to startle everyone as their heads swiveled to stare into the trees. Some, including their campfire group, got up to venture closer, trying to glimpse what was making the awful noise.

"It sounds... mechanical," Evelyn observed, watching as trees further in the jungle were pulled down to ground.

Sawyer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's what it is, a mechanical tree-eating monster. That makes sense."

She glared up at him. "What are you, five? There's no such thing as monsters. I'm sure there is a logical explanation for it. Whatever _it_ is." The noise seemed to fade away and people made their way back to their fires, all wondering where in the world their plane had crashed.

xxxxx

_Evelyn was sitting on her boat, cell phone to her ear as she studied maps spread out across the table. "We've already been there. What's the point of looking again?" She was silent for a minute as the person on the other end replied. "We could go a few miles down, maybe the current carried it farther than we expected." This seemed to please the other person, as they said their goodbyes and hung up. She shut her phone and tossed it on the table, folding the map neatly and placing it near the steering wheel. She turned around and gasped, her hand flying to her chest in surprise. The man from yesterday was standing on the dock next to her boat, a cup of coffee in each hand._

"_Mind if I come aboard?" he asked politely, smiling as if they were old friends._

"_Yes, I mind. What the hell are you doing here?" She glanced towards the white case, knowing the harpoon gun was there just in case she needed it._

"_Well, if my memory is correct, darlin', I owe you a cup of coffee." He held up the class in his left hand as he took a sip from the cup in his right._

"_You probably poisoned it. Go away!"_

"_Wait just a minute there, killer. Who was the one pointin' the gun at whom yesterday? I seem to recall you threatenin' me. I was just mindin' my own business." She went to talk, but he cut her off. "Yes, I was on _your_ boat, but still, you shouldn't go 'round pointin' guns at people. It's not very friendly."_

_She rolled her eyes as he motioned with his hand, gesturing that he was stepping onto the boat. "Whatever. Just give me the damn coffee." He handed her a cup and she quickly took it, stepping back to put some distance between her and the stranger. He sat down on the same bench that he had been sleeping on the day before._

"_So... nice boat," he said. "Does it have a name?"_

_She looked at him skeptically, trying to figure out what he was doing. "The Enterprise." He raised an eyebrow at this. "Yeah, like Star Trek. It's my dad's boat." _

"_Ah, that explains a lot." She nodded, hesitantly taking a sip of her coffee. When she hadn't passed out after a few seconds, she took a large ship, ignoring the 'I told you so' look that the man was sending her. "Well you already know who I am. Who might you be?"_

_She looked at him curiously. "Evelyn Benedict." She paused. "You sure you're not a mass murderer?"_

_He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah darlin', I'm sure." He took a sip of his own coffee, glancing around calmly at the marina they were sitting in. "So, what's a lovely American girl such as yourself doin' in the big Down Under?"_

_She took another sip of her coffee, looking at him wearily from under dark lashes. "Some friends and I are looking for Santa Fe's treasure. It's supposed to be around here somewhere."_

_His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Santa who's what?"_

_She smiled, pointing her finger off into the horizon. "About ten miles that way, there's a couple hundred million dollars worth of treasure just waiting to be found. At least, that's what the stories say. Supposedly, Captain Santa Fe and his jolly crew got into a fight with a smuggler ship that was trying to take over their boat. Both of the ships ended up sinking, all of Santa Fe's shiny treasure going to the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again. Some people believe that it actually happened off the coast of what is now Great Bahama Island, but I've searched there, so this is the next stop." _

_He laughed, leaning back casually against the beige leather seat. "So you're a treasure hunter, huh? I didn't think people actually did that anymore." _

"_Well, my dad started it. He was out fishing off the coast of Corpus Christi and he found a plate. Turns out it was worth about five thousand dollars. After that, he searched all through the Gulf looking for the rest of it. He found a few things here and there, but nothing very substantial. He used to take me with him sometimes, but I never really liked it as much as he did. He gave me his boat when he decided he was too old to be doing it. So now I just do it for fun. And traveling is nice."_

"_So this isn't what you do for a living?"_

_She shook her head, wondering why she was telling her life story to a complete stranger. "I'm an ichthyologist." He looked at her blankly. "I study fish, sharks in particular; their behavior, travel patterns, etcetera. They are rather fascinating creatures. Did you know that they swim while they sleep? It makes breathing the oxygen in the water easier on them." He raised his eyebrows, obviously not impressed. "Okay, so you're not a shark lover. What do you? I'm sure it's much more exciting than my job."_

_He smirked and brushed the hair out of his eyes. "I'm a financial councilor of sorts." He paused. "And I'm in Australia…looking for myself." His eyes met hers, a mischievous gleam shining intently._

-FIN-

--

Thanks for reading my little creation thing, I hope you at least didn't completely hate it. Reviews are lovely. I'll probably take this down once I have something better to post.


End file.
